


The Annie Of It All

by EllieCarina



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Future Fic, Jeff Winger loves Annie Edison, Jeff visits Annie in DC and things develop from there, Mixed Media, Nice to meet you, Post Season 6, Romance, a jeff winger speech for the ages, a shippers future fic, and fun little riffs on literature, epic declaration of love, feels in between, happy end, here since the netflix resurgence of '20, includes pictures, new member of the fandom, shameless fluff and some angst, some strong language and sexual situations, very apropos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieCarina/pseuds/EllieCarina
Summary: Annie is in DC, Jeff is still in love with her. So he visits her. And we take things from there.A journey begins that will take us from 2015 all the way to 2023 and feature various types of text (from regular prose to poems, to letters, to images, etc.). The romantic future of Jeff and Annie as I imagined it in my head, including a TRULY EPIC Winger-speech-declaration of love Harry and Sally-Style <3
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Comments: 51
Kudos: 240





	1. 2015, Summer

**Author's Note:**

> I watched all of Community on Netflix and rewatched it the last couple of days. I am OBSESSED with Annie and Jeff and so when the show ended, I started writing immediately to get my head canon of their future down on paper.
> 
> I hope you'll like it! I can't wait to meet likeminded people and your comments and thoughts!!!
> 
> **
> 
> This fic is full of variations on literature and text in general. You'll notice it starts with a script-section, then there's two straight prose bits following. The next chapter will feature texting mock-ups, I got Instagram mock-ups too and there will be letters, a transcript and a poem... I hope this catches a bit of the nature of Community where the medium sometimes changed so beautifully to tell those character's stories.

**2015, Summer**

**EXT. STAIRS IN FRONT OF A GYM BUILDING - DAY**

A lush warm day in the middle of summer. A young woman takes the stairs down two at a time. She's still buzzing with adrenaline from a rigorous workout and is dressed in a dark blue cotton track suit with "FBI" printed on the front in small letters.

This is ANNIE EDISON (26), summer intern at the agency and a precocious, high-strung go-getter, living her dream of becoming a criminologist. She looks like she might start singing because she is that happy - but then she stops short. She has seen a familiar face.

ANNIE

Oh my god, are you stalking me?

She commits to an unfazed act but you can tell she is happy to see JEFF WINGER (42), a sometimes jaded and often cynical recovering narcissist who teaches law at a community college in Colorado. A ghost of the recent past. He plays it equally as cool.

JEFF

I just happened to be in the area, so I thought I drop by... you know, casually.

ANNIE

In Washington DC?

JEFF

I had some miles left over and the others chipped in so I could save you from

being alone on your birthday. You’re welcome. I know this is the best gift you

ever received. I won’t tell the others you cried. Okay, that’s a lie, I will say you

cried. Because I came all this way for you. On my miles.

ANNIE

Is that so?

JEFF

Well, I didn't really have miles. That was the first time I flew. It was first class!

\- Okay, it was economy, I sat in the last row next to a dog and a baby. But I

am here for you. 

Annie chuckles but then remembers her nonchalant posturing regarding his surprise visit and readjusts her behaviour accordingly.

ANNIE

You do know my actual birthday is in December, though right?

JEFF

(not missing a beat)

Of course I know that but the others had no idea whatsoever. I got actual gifts

in my bag from Frankie and the Dean.

ANNIE

It’s a school sweater and stationary set, isn’t it? - Also Britta completely knows

when my birthday is. We lived together!

JEFF 

She still gave me something for you though, but I left it in my rental

because it’s a--

He cuts himself off to take a few steps up to get closer to her and then marginally drops his voice, enjoying himself.

JEFF

\--giant, beige, veiny dildo. She said you forgot it at the apartment.

Annie's act drops for a moment.

ANNIE

(high pitched)

That’s not mine!

Jeff grins wickedly, he loves this.

JEFF

I'm kidding, obviously. There’s no giant dildo. All I got is your tiny purple

glitter vibrator.

Annie struggles for composure for a while, then regains confidence and takes a step down, so now she is at eye level with him. Jeff is amused.

ANNIE

Don't laugh. I'm a grown woman, I can have sex toys!

Jeff takes a second to process that sentence, swallows hard, telling of the places his mind just went, but quickly recovers, gesturing defeat. That breaks the spell of both their bits. They're all played out, so now Annie shows her sincere happy-surprise at seeing him by throwing herself into his arms.

Jeff nearly topples down the rest of the stairs but can keep his footing. He hugs her tight, genuinely happy, and when the long hug ends, they still keep attached to each other, both not ready to let go.

ANNIE

I’m so happy to see you. How did you know where to find me?

JEFF

Remember when Britta asked you about your daily routine the other day?

ANNIE

Oh, that’s what that was about. She was so thorough I nearly put her on the

FBI potential serial killer watchlist.

JEFF

Does that really exist?

ANNIE

Of course, Ben Chang has been on it for years.

JEFF

(fondly)

God, I missed you.

ANNIE

I missed you, too.

(a little pouty)

Though I wouldn't know it going off how little you texted. Let alone called,

like you said you would.

Jeff is hit by this a little and swallows, deciding between coming up with a joke or being sincere - he choses honesty.

JEFF

I didn’t know what to say. Or... what to say that wouldn’t make me sound

like a needy loser. By which I obviously mean I was swamped with work.

So many... papers to grade and ... classes to prepare.

ANNIE

You haven’t prepared a class properly since I quit your first.

JEFF

Fair. - So let’s pretend I went on a lot of dates with a bunch of models. And

let's unspokenly acknowledge that I daydreamed about you too much to come

off as cool and aloof in my theoretical messages as I would have liked to and

that's just unacceptable. So the official excuse is... I was busy before. I'm sorry.

I should have been better about staying in touch.

ANNIE

And to make up for it, you decided to physically stalk me now?

JEFF

I decided to physically surprise you at your place of work a 25 hour drive

away from home. Casually. Because I am a thoughtful guy. All those models

taught me a thing or two, you know?

ANNIE

Wait, you drove here?!

JEFF

I told you I flew. Last row, dog and a baby. Keep up, Annie. I just maybe

researched the driving distance once or twice before you left.

ANNIE

Casually.

JEFF

Exactly.

They smile at each other. Jeff loses himself in the re-blossoming flirty camaraderie and takes a beat to return to his signature nonchalance.

JEFF

So, how happy are you about me being here? Be specific.

ANNIE

Very. How long are you staying?

JEFF

Got a room in the city for the weekend, so I'm yours for whatever you

want to do until Sunday.

Annie tilts her head and Jeff realizes the unintended innuendo.

JEFF

Um. - I mean, you know, anything you want to do in a friendly way.

Or non-friendly. Whatever you...

(struggling)

What I’m saying is that’s not what I came here for. And to be clear,

it’s not that I wouldn’t want to but there’s no obligation or anything.

The kiss notwithstanding, l know--

ANNIE

(chuckling)

Jeff?! Are you nervous-rambling?

JEFF

Maybe. Probably. A little bit.

Annie looks at once proud, flattered and like her teenage-self is giving her a giant high five. Jeff wants nothing more than to kiss her again but he holds himself back.

He still struggles with coming to terms with his strong feelings for her after years of resisting them because of their age difference. Annie gives him a look like she knows this. A loaded moment between them.

ANNIE

Where are you right now?

JEFF

Sorry. Thinking. About what to have for your non-birthday dinner.

Annie huffs out a laugh and smirks.

ANNIE

Let’s not make this too complicated and just get take-out pizza

to eat at mine.

Jeff's eyes go wide. Does this mean, what he thinks it means?!

ANNIE

Stop stressin', old man. We'll just chill out and see how this goes,

alright? - Milord?

She offers him her arm. After a second of computing, he takes it.

JEFF

Milady.

Annie grins and they take the rest of the stairs down together. Jeff looks at her as she starts to tell him about her internship and it's obvious he's still completely in love with her - and also a little scared by that. This could get interesting.

CUT TO:

  
  
  


**2015, later that night**

Two pizza cartons sit empty next to a bunch of recent newspapers on the very generic sideboard in Annie’s AirBnB. The TV is on, an ancient SNL episode rerun that neither of them is watching. They’re talking about anything and everything and Jeff honest-to-God doesn’t even think about sleeping with her until it’s four in the morning and she stretches out yawning and asks if he would like to stay over.

“No pressure,” Annie says and smiles, her blue eyes darker in the dim light of the lamp on the end-table (with a lavender scarf draped over it for the _ambience_ ). “I know you’re here as a friend.”

“I’d like to stay,” he says and she grins. “As anything you want me to be.”

Next thing Jeff knows, Annie has gotten up and taken his hand to pull him towards her bed in the studio. She doesn’t let go of him until they’re right at the edge of the bed (which doesn’t take long because her apartment is almost as tiny as she is). She deposits him on the bed as if he was a doll and then goes to the dresser to rummage around in it until a dark blue Greendale shirt hits Jeff square in the face.

“Is that mine?!” He asks, inspecting it while she disappears into the bathroom.

“It is, I stole it that Christmas we spent at your place,” she informs him, muffled by the closing door between them.

“Now, who’s the stalker, Annie Edison?” He changes into his old shirt and deliberates for a few long moments taking off his jeans and ultimately decides against it, for now. Just so Annie can control the situation.

He's not quite sure if he should really go through with this now, either. He had settled on a pretty definite _yes_ on the flight over. A _yes_ that got louder when he saw her again on those steps in her track suit, all flush and sweaty after her workout (and still _yes_ over waiting for her to shower and eating pizza). But then during actually being with her and talking about her life and her thoughts now, he had gotten lost in the 'Annie of it all'. He had forgotten that he'd been thinking a lot with his "heart" before coming here and that maybe pure horniness should not be guiding his actions when it came to her. Maybe he should just... pat her on the head, kiss her goodnight and leave her be. They've made it this far without breaking that unspoken boundary, maybe it's better to leave it unbroken after all? So he's back to _maybe_ or even _better not_. Probably.

“I’m sentimental,” she says, returning to the room and he knows nothing anymore. “There’s a difference, Jeff Winger.”

She looks smug and pleased with herself and she manages to pull it off with a swagger usually reserved for the likes of him, and all of it in a pair of soft-pink Pyjamas. It’s so Annie he wants to cry. Instead he chuckles, just a little. Annie looks instantly self-conscious and starts tucking at her shirt.

“No, no, I love it,” he says and she looks back at him again. “I mean… it’s sweet. You’re always…”

“Sweet little Annie,” she completes his sentence flatly and climbs into bed behind him. Then she claps twice and all the lights go out. (Jeff has only ever seen that in movies but it’s likely the most Annie-thing he’s ever witnessed.)

“Are you mad at me right now?” Jeff asks, puzzled, as his eyes get used to the lack of light and he realises she is pouting a little.

“No,” Annie says. “I don’t know what I expected putting this thing on. I’m not a little girl anymore, you know? I’m not cute. I’m _hot._ ”

“I very much _do_ know that, Annie,” Jeff says and turns around, watching the shape of her move around under her blanket until faintly pink fabric lands on the floor beside him. 

“No, but I need you to look,” she tells him and shoves the blanket away, revealing herself in her underwear: a bralette and mismatched cotton panty. It’s not Victoria Secret but it’s Annie and he doesn’t know what to say.

“So?” She prompts him, impatient.

“Uh.” He swallows hard. “You know how I feel about you. I know you’re not a kid.”

“Then would you stop looking at me like you’re committing some sort of felony being here?” She demands and plucks at his arm, making him turn around to fully face her. He follows easily, letting her tuck him closer and closer until they’re both lying on their sides, propped up on their elbows, facing each other.

“It’s a hard-won reflex,” he mutters. 

“Well, then un-reflex it,” she orders and smiles.

He can't help but smile back. He's a sucker, he can't help it. She is right there and he's turning blue wanting her so who is he kidding? He can't fight it. He wants this. He has wanted this for fucking ever. So he gives in. For better or for worse. He sees her see him make the decision and the unbridled lust and triumph on her face nearly splits him in half. 

And just like that, there’s that delicious little moment before a kiss, the one where people breathe in together, lock eyes, silently agree on what’s about to happen... and then it happens. Her lips are just as soft as he remembers but now there’s urgency behind them, a subtle force that pushes him slowly down onto his back as she climbs on top of him. This is not like the chaste kiss in the study room, romantic and non-sexual as it was. This is romance, yeah, but it's also SEX in all caps. And it’s not a girl with a crush kissing him but a woman who knows what she wants. And what she wants is him. Jeff is half hard already and then quickly fully hard when she straddles him, trapping his length between them just so, so deliciously. He’s probably going a little bit insane right that second.

“We’ve never gone this far before,” Jeff mutters against her lips in wonderment and she pauses her ministrations to look down at their entwined bodies. He sounds like a teenager.

“I know, isn’t it crazy?” She says, her eyes finding his again in the moonlight coming in from the blinds. “You were screwing _Britta_ six ways to Sunday but we never even got to second base.” 

Jeff got _that_ hint loud and clear, so he knows what she’s asking. It’s expected – and he came prepared. Luckily there is still enough blood left in his brain to reply to this.

“Britta and I,” he says, flipping them over in a swift, trained motion, “that was different. A lot of it, especially in the end there, was overcompensating, we’ll, over and _under_ -compensating, if you know what I mean.“

“Gross, Jeff,” Annie groans.

“The point is, Britta is wonderful,” he says, “and I love her but I was never _in_ love with her. And she was never in love with me either. We’re basically the same person, sleeping with her was like… If I’d gotten the chance to sleep with Lady-Jeff! And you know, who would pass that up?”

“Not you,” Annie provides. Jeff nods. See, Annie just _gets_ him like that. "But you did hurt me. I felt like an asshole when it turned out you were sleeping with her for an entire year while I was making a fool of myself thinking you and I had a thing. You made me feel like I was imagining things, like I was a teeny-bopper-idiot over-interpreting random moments set to cheesy singer-songwriter pop music. Actually you almost explicitly said that. Verbatim."

"I know, I'm sorry" he says, and he truly is. "You weren't imagining things. There were looks. And moments. I couldn't help that. But it was so complicated back then. It still is a little bit."

"And Britta isn't," she states without inflection.

"Oh, she is," Jeff acknowledges. "But in a different way. The Britta-complicated is totally different from the Annie-complicated."

"Why?"

“Why?! Because you, Annie Edison, _you_ … ,” he takes a breath. She deserves to hear this. “You came straight out of left field. You hit me like a truck that day you let your hair down studying for fucking debate and I have been in a world of trouble ever since. I killed myself trying to stay away from you for six years. And when you told us you were leaving to come here I was… so terrified. I still am. I’m scared of holding you back, I’m scared of ruining our friendship. I’m scared that we do this right now and I can never go back to how it was before. It’s crazy. I’m not usually like this, you know that. I _don’t_ feel things like 78 percent of the time–on principle, and probably capacity–but with you, I feel _everything._ So getting with Britta was actually _easy_ in comparison, like tying a shoelace - and it really wasn't that easy at all. But I never went there with you because it would have gotten monstrously tangled and messy and _fast._ And messing this up would have completely ruined me. It still might. You're so important to me Annie, it really scares me sometimes.”

There’s a long pause and he takes a couple of deep breaths to replenish his lungs. That was a long speech. (But Annie looks appeased for now and he quietly congratulates himself because _dang, son, he's still got it!_ )  
  


“I can’t believe I got my very own Pillow-Talk-Winger-speech,” Annie whispers eventually and her voice sounds stuffy, like maybe she’s gonna cry a little. “And it was a declaration of love of all things.”

“Hey, let’s calm down, okay, who said anything about love?”

“ _You_ did. Basically” Annie insists. And then again, yes, she’s probably right. He’s already forgotten what he said exactly but his heart is racing and his ears burn so she’s likely correct.

“Yeah, I did,” he concedes thusly. “Honestly, it’s getting really bad. In my head I pictured us having kids. Multiple times.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Annie yelps and kisses him quickly (which is a far better reaction than being completely creeped out… and this could have gone either way, really). “Definitely a boy first!”

“That’s what I thought!” He exclaims, taking the switch to levity like a dying man. He can't take much more of the real talk right now or she'll completely unravel him.

“Our imaginary son’s name on three?” He challenges. Annie nods enthusiastically, thank God. “One, two, three,” Jeff starts.

“Sebastian!” And Annie says at the same time: "Leonardo!"

“Absolutely not happening,” Jeff decides a moment later, pulling a face. “I’m not naming my kid after DiCaprio.”

“ _Our_ kid,” Annie huffs. “Also it’s not for Leonardo DiCaprio, it’s for the turtle.”

“The Ninja Turtle?!”

“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, yeah,” Annie corrects him. Jeff chuckles, still ever as in awe of her and her entire _thing._

And then moment ends sharply as he remembers something he has seen in her apartment earlier but pushed away until now that they were joking about their hypothetical future. His smile fades. Sebastian, or Leonardo, or whoever their kid would have been, escapes out the window of Jeff’s imagination on pudgy, stumbly little legs. He wasn’t ever sure he even wanted children but with Annie, he can see it so clearly that it’s a visceral, deep, _father’s_ pain letting go of his imaginary son.

“What?” Annie asks, looking up at him and suddenly, he feels his bones, hovering above her, his elbows pushing into the mattress on either side of her head. Suddenly, and for the first time since seeing her again, he feels his age.

“You’re not coming back after your internship, are you?” He asks and her face is answer enough. But she speaks anyway.

“How did you know?”

“The newspapers on your sideboard,” he reveals, “they’re all turned to the classified pages and studio flats are circled.” He pauses for comedic effect, because he can’t escape himself and then adds: “Oh and also the vision binder on the kitchen counter that says ‘My new life in DC - _by Agent Edison'_.”

“Yeah, that would give it away,” Annie acknowledges and he chuckles at her dry tone in spite of himself. “I would have told you,” she amends. “They offered me a place at the Academy. It’s twenty weeks for basic training and then I don’t know where they’ll put me for field experience. It might be a while until I get back to Greendale. I mean, that’s if…” She falls silent.

“If you ever come back at all,” he completes her sentence. 

She kisses him. It says “There are too many variables and I can’t make promises”, just like her last one in Greendale did, and he can hardly blame her. But it still might break him into pieces.

“Jeff,” she whispers, forcing him to open his eyes again and she locks him in place with her gaze. She was always so good at that. 

“I love you,” she says unceremoniously, like it’s just matter-of-fact, like he has known this (and in away, he really, really did, which doesn’t make this any easier). “And I don’t know what good that does anymore but we’re here right now. We’ve got tonight at least, don’t we?”

Jeff wants to say it back but he can’t talk right now, so instead, he leans down to kiss her and tries to put it all in there.

_I love you, I want you to come back, I want to have a future with you but I know that’s not fair. I know I can’t cage you in. So I’m still letting you go, but God, it’s hard, Annie, it’s so hard._

She kisses him back like he’s oxygen, like she understands what he’s aggressively thinking at her. It’s a small mercy. Annie keeps the engine going, keeps moving under him. He's right back to being up and hard and hungry for her. He embraces the feeling, lets himself plunge into the depths of wanting her and giving in to her. His whole tentative dreams about the future with her, about what it would be like once she came back home, have just gone up in flames and it hurts more than he cares to admit. So he lets her engulf him like she's a forest fire and tries to feel nothing but her skin on his and move however she desires him to. And because it's Annie, forgetting everything else but the feel of her comes frighteningly easy.

His pants are straining, constricting him, but Annie seems to get a little kick out of the friction, so he lets her grind against him for a while, even if it makes him go a bit crazy. She tucks at his shirt and he works with her to take it off. When she starts kissing his neck all sloppy and wet, he finally loses his composure and makes quick (and wholly undignified) work of stripping out of his jeans and underwear. Meanwhile, Annie’s got hers off so quickly, Jeff thinks she might be a witch and hexed them away. But off is off, so he doesn’t waste more precious little brain capacity left on that thought. He grabs a condom from his pants on the floor (yeah, he came prepared for everything, so what?!) and returns to her.

He nestles back in between her thighs, puts the condom on with shaky hands, pushes her legs apart and aligns them. Her hands land on his ass and she squeezes his skin, pulling him in - and just like that it’s happening.  
He’s right there with her, as close as he’s ever been. She squeaks a little and he can’t help a strangled growl escape him. He wanted to do this so long, it’s a both a fever dream and terrifying at the same time to be with her like this now. To be inside of her at long last, as united as humanly possible. Completely and entirely wrapped up in her.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

They’re both taking in the sensation, studying each other open mouthed and breathing heavy, allowing this new reality to sink in. Jeff takes an extra moment to process how it feels to do this with a woman he’s in love with, and not just hot for. And it’s a _lot._

“You’re still sure about this?” He asks, straining to get this out before he loses his damn mind. Annie moves, just a little bit, making him blank for a second. She moans, a delicious, broken sound in the back of her throat, and nods.

“Yes,” she breathes, “hundred percent. Now do your thing, Winger, I’m dying here.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.


	2. 2015, Fall to 2016, Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank all 40 people for reading the first chapter ;) 
> 
> This one has the first visual interpretation, some more straight prose and then a LETTER. There is some angst in here, so you have hereby been warned.
> 
> I am still happy to talk to whoever of you forty who wants to about Jeff and Annie or hear your thoughts on this chapter :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :)

**2015, Fall**

**2015, Winter**

Greendale is a sleepy suburb where nothing much ever happens and Christmas is no different in that regard. Jeff has lived through fall and what was shaping up to be another very mild winter without really noticing time going by. Work was work, Greendale Community College was predictably insane and he filled his free time watching TV and reading books more than he ever had. Annie kept back-to-back recommendations coming whenever they texted and he didn’t want to disappoint her. Plus it gave him an excellent excuse to keep in somewhat regular and sometimes even frequent contact with her.

And while he could (and as of yet _has_ ) come up with a million different questions about this or that character or fact in this or the other book (and some of them he actually sincerely wanted answered), so far he hasn’t been able to ask what he really wants to know from Annie. Which is something along the lines of: _Will you come home soon and maybe marry me?_ Obviously he can’t ask her that for a plethora of reasons, so he hasn’t. He doesn’t think he will either when he sees her on her actual birthday this year. She’ll be at her parents over the holidays and has invited everyone she knows to celebrate it with her. 

Britta has offered to get her a great deal on drinks, which is why it’s just another night at ‘The Vatican’ for Jeff—but with having to talk to a bunch more people than he usually would. So far, the night hasn’t been bad at all though, quite the opposite. Frankie is there and she’s taking the bullet of dealing with the Dean, Shirley has gotten a babysitter and nurses a wine, Britta is finally getting the hang of mixing a decent Whiskey Sour and Troy is there (and he’s filthy rich now so Jeff doesn’t have to pay for any of the five Whiskey Sours he’s already had). They’re sitting together at the bar while Annie walks around being a perfect hostess and they talk about Troy's impending move to Los Angeles. 

He’s bought a swanky house that Abed has already moved into and Troy will put a significant amount of money into the sci-fi comedy pilot Abed is trying to get produced. So everything is right on track to be a giant Troy-and-Abed disaster, just on the other side of the country this time. Jeff can't wait to hear how _that_ turns out. Truth be told, he is having the best time that night, sincerely. It might be because of the mini reunion of the original study group or it might be because he’s well on his way to be super wasted—whatever it is, he’s happier than he has been in a while in Greendale. 

(The real reason he’s finding it hard to keep from grinning like an idiot as the crowd thins is actually Annie who keeps dropping into their circle to chat and laugh and touch his knee or his arms when she leaves again. And the fact that she already agreed a while ago to go home with him after this thing is over.)

He’s on his sixth Whiskey Sour when Troy and Shirley bid their goodbyes and the two other guests who’ve kept Annie away from him begin to say their goodbyes. By the time they’re finished, though, he has fallen asleep with his head on his arm on the bar. It’s Annie’s small hand that gently rocks him awake. Only to him it doesn’t feel gentle. To him it feels like a demon from hell yanks him harshly from a bed of comfy clouds.

“What?” He blurts out, startled and disoriented. “I didn’t ask _anyone_ to marry me!”

“Jeff? Are you alright?” Annie asks, looking equal parts amused and concerned. Jeff is having a terribly hard time seeing her just one of her instead of a weird Triple-Annie monster.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” he mutters. “You done with the… uh… party business?”

“Very done,” she says, smiles sympathetically and then leans in, lowering her voice. “Are you sure you want me to come back to yours? You seem really tired.”

“No, yeah, totally, yes,” he says, straightening up, trying like a drunk schoolboy to seem… well, sober. 

Before he can say any more, Britta comes over, polishing a glass. “Want me to call you a cab, grandpa?” To Annie she says: “Really can’t hold his liquor like he used to, that one. It’s a tragedy.”

“Shut up, Britta,” Jeff says and to her great credit and his even greater relief, Annie doesn’t disappoint and comes through for him.

“No, it’s fine, I’m taking him home,” Annie says to the Blonde and then half climbs across the bar to give her an awkward hug.

“Is this finally a thing now?” Britta asks the second Annie is back firmly on her feet. “You two?”

“Noooo,” Annie shoots back pretty convincingly—but then quickly loses both her nerve and that confident flair in favour of reverting back to Vintage-Annie circa Season Two (to put it in Abed terms). “Not at all, just… drrrrroppin’ him right off, you know. Ha ha. Welllll, we gotta go. See you Sunday for lunch, _girlfriend._ Um. Yeah. Okay. Bye Britta.”

“She _totally_ bought that,” Jeff says, only slightly slurred but very much dripping with sarcasm, the second the bar door has fallen closed behind them.

“Shut up,” Annie groans and pulls at his jacket to get him to her car faster. She’s incredibly quick and steady on her feet, that gold-star girl.

“You didn’t drink at all did you?”

“I had a spritzer right at the start of the party but I’m good to drive,” she replies dutifully. 

“Of course you are,” Jeff breathes, folding himself into the front seat of her comically small Smart. “Annie, did you get this at clown-rental especially to humiliate me?”

“Excuse you, have you ever sat in an actual sports car before?” Annie protests, putting her seatbelt on. " _Those_ things are tiny.”

“Of course I’ve sat in a sports car before, Annie,” Jeff says. “I was a _lawyer_. Also that’s different. Sports cars have to be smaller to make room for the big engines.”

Annie just rolls her eyes and he supposes that’s fair.

The drive to his place is quick and after some more inconsequential bickering, they go on to spaz out to Toto’s “Africa” and by the time the song is over, they’re at his address. He’s a smidge more sober now, which is good. Annie still has to let them into his apartment, though, because he’s not back to his usual level of fine motor skills. Thankfully, Annie is swift and capable and so it’s fine, he doesn't look _too_ incompetent. He even vigorously scrubbed his entire place spotless, anticipating her coming over. (Okay, fine, he paid for a deep clean from Maids’R’Us, but it was money very well spent, alright?!) And it does impress her, judging by her appreciative expression as she walks in with him, moves across his living room and then straight into his bedroom.

Jeff follows, both turned on and a little bewildered by the ease with which she moves in his space. Especially when, after taking a leak and carefully cleaning and prepping himself for what's gonna happen next, he finds her in his bed, already stripped out of her party dress and clothed in one of his shirts and boxers.

“You’re fast,” he states and stumbles out of his shoes and pants to join her. He’s still wearing his sweater but discards that too as soon as he’s sitting down beside her. He leans in to kiss her, just because he’s waited all night to do this and she’s wearing his clothes and she is _in_ his bed for the first time ever and she looks so beautiful and he loves her and he wants her and—

She very deliberately ducks out of his reach. “I don’t think I want to have sex with you right now,” she says, very matter-of-factly. “You smell like a distillery and I think I’m too sober to ignore that.”

Jeff lets himself plop down onto his back. It’s instant defeat. Mostly because this isn’t even a very surprising turn of events if you think about it and she’s completely right to refuse him. And also, he probably wouldn't perform the way he wants to in his state anyway, so he actually _agrees_ with her that having sex now would be a terrible idea. Which only begs the question: Why the fuck did he drink so much?

“Why the fuck did I drink so much?” He asks her because at this point it’s honestly more likely that _she_ knows the answer. And very true to Annie’s Annie-ness, she doesn’t miss a beat.

“You were _giddy_ tonight, Jeff,” she says and suddenly she looks very affectionate (and his agreement on sex being a bad idea right now wavers). “I don’t think I ever saw you as unabashedly joyful as you were at that bar. Except, of course, that one time when you won Greendale’s Hottest Professor and couldn’t stop smiling the entire day. But I think tonight, you were just so happy to have the old gang back together that you started happy-drinking. Like… you _actually_ lived in the moment, you didn’t think about later. You were surrounded by friends that you’ve missed and you had a great time. That’s not so bad.”

“It wasn’t just them though,” he says, propping himself up on his elbow and watches her do the same. “Full disclosure. I’ve been pretty much counting down the days to seeing you again since DC. And having you back around these parts is just… pathetically good for that shriveled ugly thing in my chest formerly known as _The Void._ ”

Annie grins and it lights him up more than whiskey or scotch ever could. 

“I know I smell disgusting, so I won’t do it,” he mutters, reaching for her dark hair, twisting a strand of it through his fingers, “but I want you to know that I would love to be kissing you right now.”

Annie’s face journeys from an “Awww” to a smirk and then she lays down and turns her head to face him, a devellish glare in her eyes. “And what else would you like to be doing with me right now?”

_Precocious little minx_ , he thinks. He got that. He got that loud and clear. But fine, if she wants him to suffer and lay out in dirty talk exactly what they’re both missing right now due to him being an idiot, she can have it. See if he cares. (He does care, he really does—also his dick has instantly decided to join the conversation, twitching up like a worm with a stroke and _fuck_ , he’s still too drunk for this.) He braces himself for more of his horniness struggling against the alcohol in his system and lies down too, facing her, staring her down when he starts to speak.

“I would be taking my boxers back from you,” he says and settles in lower on the bed, never looking away from her eyes. “But I’d leave you in my shirt for now because it’s fucking hot seeing you wearing my clothes.”

“I recall you not even lending me your jacket for half a song back in the days,” Annie deadpans. “You didn’t even want me to sit down in it.”

“Annie,” he admonishes. “That was a really expensive jacket, you're the only person who ever even got to _touch_ it. Now, do you want me to dirty talk you or not?”

“Oh, were you gearing up for that?!” Annie asks with faux innocence followed by a shit-eating grin. “So far it wasn’t more than a faint description of how you want to undress me but not all the way because you enjoy looking at me in your clothes, probably because it makes you feel like I’m marked as your property now.”

“Well, you didn't let me finish. Also, did you talk to Britta a lot tonight by any chance? That sounds like Britta-ish,” Jeff wonders, something about being back here and with everyone tonight is putting them right where they left off before she went to DC. “Also-also, what happened to Never-ironic-Annie? I’d love to dirty-talk _her_.”

“Matter of fact I did spend some time talking to Britta. Did she tell you she’s opening her own bar in Denver?” Annie asks and then waits for him to nod before self-satisfiedly adding: “It’s Irony-free-Annie, by the way.” 

“At least Know-it-all-Annie is still in there somewhere,” Jeff groans (but secretly loves it, too).

“She is,” Annie agrees. “And she’ll tell you that No-longer-irony-free-Annie actually learned from the best and her training came in very handy in her time at the FBI Academy, so thanks.”

“As the person who undoubtedly created this monster, let me be the first to say: I _deeply_ regret it.”

Annie chuckles. Jeff still melts at that sound like butter in the sun. _Damn her!_ She’s not getting him this easy, he’ll show her.

“I’m not in the mood for dirty talk anymore by the way, so that’s what you get for being Irritating-Annie,” Jeff states, possibly over-correcting a little bit because Annie actually gets up and leaves the room. “No wait, come back! I didn’t mean it, you’re not irritating!”

When she does return, Jeff has sat up, just about ready to go after her. He stops short however, as Annie appears in the doorway, one of his bottles of scotch in hand, and watches her unscrew the cap with her actual mouth and spit it across the room. She takes a very large gulp of it by lady-standards and, to Jeff’s greatest surprise, she actually keeps it down. Though she does make a face like she's struggling to.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Annie presses out, blinking fast and swallowing hard before her face goes back to normal and her cheeks turn bright red. “Tastes like bog.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I changed my mind, I don’t want dirty talk, I want the real thing,” Annie declares and takes another large gulp (this one doesn’t take quite as long to stomach apparently). “And since you sobering up and–or stop smelling like a back alley behind a strip club at three AM isn’t likely anytime soon, I’m getting drunk too so we can have real sex.”

“Hmm, and what if I’m not in the mood anymore now you’ve likened my musky, masculine, maybe slightly-whiskey-tinged-but-still- _very_ -good scent to a dirty city street?”

Annie gives him a look, puts the bottle aside and then takes his shirt off of her body, revealing she’s very much naked underneath it.

“Okay, I’m still in the mood,” Jeff says and then he does get off the bed to cross the distance and kiss her.

She grins against his lips and he’s waited for this for nearly half a year so he savours it, even if it’s slightly off to taste scotch on Annie Edison’s lips (and tongue). He still allows himself a long moment to enjoy the sensation selfishly, reacquainting himself with her mouth and how she likes to use it, the little sounds she makes… and the sounds she makes him make. He lifts her off her feet, because she’s small and he can and she likes it. Yes, she really does, if her deepening the kiss yet and adding a little bite of his lip is any indication. 

“So, how drunk are you still? You think you can keep this up?” She mutters, after having moved her attention from his face to his neck and pauses there for a second.

“Don’t worry, I can still hold you,” he reassures her, adjusting his grip on her legs wrapped around him. "I go to the gym every day."

Annie chuckles, a little raspy sound, and then she rolls her hips into his groin, making him have to close his eyes to deal with the friction for a second because _fuck._

“I was talking about _that,_ ” she whispers. Jeff shudders with arousal. And takes the bait.

He moves them to the bed, half-throws her into it and wastes no time climbing on top of her. “Don’t worry,” he just about growls and underlines his point by pushing down against her hard, making her gasp. “I can do this all night.” 

(Which might not even be a lie—he has sobered off enough to fully, absolutely get hard, a fact that he knows because he presently _is._ But maybe too drunk yet to come anytime soon, so really, it should be perfect for Annie. Not that she complained about the duration of any of their exploits on that DC weekend but still… had she’d only been too polite to say anything, she really will get hers tonight, he'll make sure of it.)

Having sex with Annie is incredible. Now that he’s done it a couple of times and has had months and months to fantasize about what he’ll do to her (and a couple of late night, horny sexting exchanges that neither of them ever fully acknowledges), he’s got a decent idea of what she wants. He uses every last move he has, everything his ample experiences as a lover have taught him, every hint she has ever given him and every touch she has ever responded well to before and he lasts _forever._ Nearly. He isn’t sure how many times Annie comes along the way, he thinks it might have been twice, he hopes it was at least once but he gives as good as he gets. He really puts his back into it, taking his sweet time to please her, and when he finishes, a whole lot more than a sweaty twenty minutes have passed, that’s for sure. He lasted at least forty! Maybe. Probably. Time isn’t linear when you’re buried balls deep in Annie Edison. (It was definitely no less than thirty, though.)

When they’re done, they do that movie thing where they both fall back onto the bed panting, ending up side by side and it wasn’t even planned. Jeff turns his head because he wants to keep looking at her (and he can’t move much else at the moment) and Annie does the same so he’s able to study her features for a response. He’s never been quite so needy for a woman’s approval of his qualities in bed. He usually got into it with a pretty single-minded approach of getting off himself. Maybe that’s why Britta ended their friends-with-benefits-situation back in the day with the words “It’s you” - and now, being with Annie, that worries him.

Annie seems to read him like a book, as she does, because she makes that face and then tilts her head. “It’s okay, you can ask me. I know you want to.” 

“No, I don’t,” Jeff says reflexively… and then does it anyway. “How was I?”

“You ruined me for all other men,” she says, dry as a bone and entirely too fast. Jeff instantly deflates.

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” he grumbles. Annie chuckles and somehow ends up back on his chest.

“I’m actually serious,” she says. “No, really, a hundred percent sincere, Irony-free-Annie talking. And not only the time just now which was frankly _impressive_ but that entire weekend of my Non-birthday in DC… that was amazing, too. You were wonderful! I knew Britta was being harsh a—” Annie cuts herself short and Jeff sits up, keeping Annie in his arms, his hands a bit tighter around her shoulders.

“So she _did_ think I was bad in bed!” 

“No, not _bad_ ,” Annie says. “Just… a little self-centered. But you weren’t self-centered with _me_ is what I'm saying. You were attentive and alert and present. You looked at me, like, the whole time, trying to figure out what I like. That was really nice. So to answer your question: You were great and I had a mind-bending time.”

"So you actually meant it, when you said I ruined you for all other men?"

"I think so," Annie muses. "I guess I won't know until I sleep with someone else, huh?"

He gives her a look.

"I'm not planning to do that presently," Annie says. "I think I'll be good on sex for a while after this. The good vibe lasts longer when you sleep with someone you actually love."

Jeff huffes out a comedically timed breath but then quickly swerves back into sincerity, because it’s high time he said _that_ back. And tonight for some reason, it doesn’t feel so scary anymore.

“I love you too,” he says and because that didn’t hurt at all (if anything it felt pretty damn good), he takes it one further, daring to reveal more than he was originally prepared to that night. “And I want you to come back. Come home, Annie. Let’s try this, _us._ Let’s be together. For real. With actual commitments and… Friday date nights and doing the New York Times crossword together on Sunday morning. Let's have a relationship. A real, grown-up, exclusive one. You and me. What do you say?”

Annie leans in and kisses him. He can tell from the press of her lips that he’s not gonna like what’ll happen when it ends.

She doesn’t look at him when she pulls away. Instead, her eyes are burning holes into his clavicle bone.

“I got placed for field experience,” she murmurs. “In Portland.”

“That’s all the way on the east coast,” Jeff echoes her tone. “How long?”

“I don’t know…,” Annie begins. “I guess until I have enough experience?”

They look at each other for a moment before that becomes too painful and then they end up with their foreheads together, just breathing.

"We can see how it goes, the long distance thing?" Annie offers, her voice brittle. "Keep close, talk on the phone? Jeff? Are you okay?"

“I don’t know what to say,” Jeff mutters and when he hears his own voice break, he knows he has to act before something terrible happens (like him starting to cry). “Can I just make love to you again and we pretend you’re not leaving until the morning?”

Annie’s answer is prompt and comes in the form of her body winding around his like a vine. He envelops her and bends her to his shape and then falls apart inside and all around her. He tries to sear every last moment into his memory. It's just not fair. Why does he have to keep and keep and _keep_ letting her go? How long until it actually breaks him?

**2016, Summer (on baby pink stationary, written with a purple gel pen)**

_Dear Jeff,_

_I don’t know what’s going on with you and I don’t know if I even care anymore. I don’t know if you blocked me or if you’re ignoring my calls and texts with your own willpower or disinterest or whatever — but I know that it sucks. I’ve been trying so hard with you. I tried to keep you up to date on my life and how I feel and I did everything in my power to let you know that I care about you, about US. Only it seems like you don’t care. At all. _

_Except of course to fucking facebook-stalk my friends. I tried to keep you in the loop about my life and instead of appreciating that, you just got jealous about the stupidest things. Jordan is a colleague, Garret is my appointed mentor. Yes, they’re men, yes I get along well with them. NO, I am not sleeping with either of them and it's frankly super hurtful, that you accuse me of anything else. They’re friends and that’s it. But you know, if me having guy friends bothers you to the point of spying on me and them, we could have talked about that! I could have eased your mind, we could have put this right. Had some conversations about boundaries and where that jealousy comes from… what to do about it. God knows, I was willing to. God knows, I would have probably come to Greendale to shake some sense into you myself._

_But you just dropped off the face of the earth from one day to the next, mid-text-conversation, mind you, and that was that._ I can’t believe that was that _, Jeff! After everything we’ve been through. After everything we mean to each other. Or meant? Have you forgotten me so easily now after all? Moved on to the next idiot who thought you actually became capable of loving someone other than yourself?!_

_I guess I’m just shocked. I’d have expected ghosting from everybody but not you. I mean, I would have expected it from you, because let's be real here for a second: you’re like the archetype of a guy who would ghosts people! But I never thought you would ever, ever, ever ghost ME_ _. And this letter is to say that I’m not letting you get away with it, I’m not taking that sitting down and crying._

_I am done crying about you, Jeff Winger. I wasted seven good years of my life on that. And I am in my twenties, there's so much I didn't do because I was stupidly in love with you for most of it! And there it fucking is. What you were always afraid of. You say my age was a problem because you didn’t want to hold me back, because I still had so much living to do, like being with you was equal to a fucking death sentence - and you spared me that, like some martyr. But the truth is you never cared about holding me back or not, you were just scared that I was gonna leave you one day when I realised you were older. And you wanted to get in front of that. _

_But newsflash, Jeff, I always knew you were older!! I’ve known it when I met you. I’ve known it when I kissed you on that debate stage, I’ve known it when I told Vaughan to leave Greendale without me because I couldn’t stand to not see you again. I’ve known it every time we kissed after, everytime I fantasized about kissing you, about marrying you, about spending my life with you. You think I was actually surprised when you told us you were really forty?! You really think I would have left any stone unturned to find out everything I could about you back then?! Anal-Annie? I don’t think so. _

_I knew which hospital you were born in at precisely what time a week into our first year together. I’ve known our age difference down to the minute and when I thought about being your wife, I always took that into account. I imagined how you’d freak out when you would start losing your hair, I imagined how you might have some minor back problems when our kids were little and running around the playground and you had to pick them up all the time, I imagined buying prescription glasses with you and assuring you, you looked sexy and handsome in them because I knew you would. I imagined you being in your mid-fifties and I imagined me still being married to you because I don’t care. I don’t care that you’re older, I don’t care that you will be sixty when I’m forty. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I could see myself loving you until we’re both ancient and need diapers. Fuck wrinkles and grey hair, Jeff. I loved you for YOU! I would have loved you if you'd been my age or younger or even fucking older. _

_So why did you always insist on pushing me away, like I didn’t know what was good for me? I’m not some fragile thing. I’m not stupid! God knows I’m a good deal smarter than you on most days. You never needed to protect me. And I don’t think you did, at the end of the day. You always just protected yourself. And that’s really the only way you could have ever really hurt me. And you did that. So good on you. _

_This is my letter goodbye to you. At this point, I don’t even expect an answer. Just know that you did it. You’re safe. Silly Annie Edison is no longer crazy for you. Silly Annie Edison will not break your heart. You broke hers. I hope you’re happy now._

_I stupidly still love you but that will fade too, eventually._

_Annie_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yea... Jeff dropped the ball. Let's see how they get out of this. Probably a letter to answer would be in order...


	3. 2017, Spring to 2017/18 NYE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the third instalment :) Jeff is working through some issues, Annie is a poet and epic speeches are made.
> 
> This chapter also marks the return of the songfic. that's right, I'm bringing it back ;)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, every single one of you made my day today and I hope you like this next chapter!! <3
> 
> You can find the playlist here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/700Scfrwapj8vSK9JGTXP4?si=v824ODxFSlmgsOV01Vgbsw

**2017, Spring (on a thick piece of Greendale Community College stationary, the letterhead cut off wonkily)**

_ Annie, I’m sorry. I should have written back sooner. I didn’t know how.  _

_ I’ve been going to therapy more. My therapist thought I should write to you but I think it’s too late now. Anyway. Here it is.  _

_ I never wanted to hurt you, that’s the last thing I ever wanted.  _

_ Truth is, you’re right. About everything. I was afraid you would outgrow me, wake up one day and decide you still had too many good years ahead of you to spend them with a cynical, jaded, old asshole in a dead-end-job at a community college for idiots and freaks.  _

_And that would have killed me. It would have felt like this, how it feels now, knowing you want nothing to do with me. Knowing that makes it hard to get out of bed sometimes. Knowing it’s all my fault is even worse. But I am very aware that I deserve it. I owed you an explanation but I couldn't find the words, so I just... dropped the ball._

_ I don’t expect anything from you. I just needed you to know that I’m sorry and that I am aware that I royally fucked up. You’re the best human being in the world, Annie Edison, and you deserve way better than me.  _

_ I love you. I always will. I hope you find all the happiness in the world.  _

_ Actually sincerely yours (truly and always), J _

**2017, Winter**

oh to be back home

to remember how it felt

the carol singers at my mother's door step as she looks at me like I'm still a stranger

as we all endure the awkwardness of people singing at other people from two feet away

and i remember you

you never wore christmas sweaters

you wore your disregard of sentimentalism like a suit of armour

unpenetrateable 

except when I did and you opened up like a flower, only to shut yourself back in again

i remember you

i remember your dry wit, your cutting sarcasm

and how you would only allow only the briefest of glimpses at your heart

the press of your hand at the small of my back 

the way you smiled at me from the other side of the table like you never smiled at anybody else

i remember you

twenty-eight as of a day and i’m still weak

i still have that same old teenage crush on you although i swore it was over and done

we let each other go so many times, it’s crazy that it feels like you’re still in my blood

like you’re still everywhere inside me

i remember you there

oh to be back home

to wander the streets of my youth and follow the dark grey brick road 

all the way back to your house  i wasn’t even planning on doing that 

i just wanted a drink, i just wanted to get out of the house and at the same time

remember you

it brought me right back to your door

and as i stand there, the ringing sound of the bell reverberating in my skull

i wonder what you look like now, probably the same

it has been one and a half years

you’re probably the same as i remember you

i imagine the slight salt-and-pepper at your temples, the laughing wrinkles around your eyes,

i imagine the soft curve of your smile as i hear footsteps behind the door.

but i could never have imagined the pain of watching your door open to a woman

other than myself. age-appropriate. beautiful. sophisticated. everything i always pretend to be

i remember you always had a thing for redheads.

she gives me a friendly “who are you and what do you want”-look and as I turn to leave

red-faced and with my heart in my throat, i faintly see your body moving towards me

blurry through water in my eye, i hear you say  “honey, who is it?”

i want to die, why do i keep doing this to myself?

you never once called me honey, i remember that too

my name on your lips and surprise on your face

i stagger backward, mutter some apology, i need to get away

i’m sorry i barged in, i just happened to be in the area

i duck around, i walk briskly and i don’t turn back, not even when you call after me

i remember when you called out my name between your sheets, just like that

annie, my annie, my annie, my annie

whose annie am i now? why do i still want to be yours?

i did my growing-up, i did the time away, i came back having learned

i know now part of me was always grown. a part of me grew up the first time i kissed you.

and i remember the taste of your lips

i remember, i remember, i remember you

but maybe it’s time i forgot

— a.e.

**2017/2018 (the night of)**

It starts with a stupid, stupid, stupid boppy pop song that Jeff was in the process of switching on his way to work as it comes on. He’s driving to Greendale two days after Annie showed up unannounced at his doorstep. He almost turns the radio off. Only then the lyrics start and he makes the grave mistake to pay attention to them.

* * *

_ I used to know you better, better than anyone _

_ Now I don't know you at all _

_ You used to keep my secrets, shallowest turned to deepest _

_ Now I got someone else to call _

_ Just 'cause I don't make a thing about it _

_ Don't mean that I never think about it _

_ 'Cause I do _

_ Just 'cause I learned how to live without you _

_ Don't mean that I ever really wanted to _

_ I miss you _

_ After all that we’ve been through _

_ I never told you that I do _

**_I Miss You (Grey ft. Behari)_ **

* * *

It cuts like a very unexpected knife and he can’t believe that such vapid music is able to elicit the caliber of emotions in him that he usually keeps down with the pills he takes (courtesy of his very trusted therapist Mrs Heady). But it happens. He arrives at the Community College parking lot and he’s  _ shook _ , as his younger students like to say. The song is long over, his car radio turned off. But he’s got his phone out and he’s researching the song and just like that it ends up on a secret playlist entitled “J+A=?” and he  _ hates _ himself. 

Because he misses her and because he feels like a love-sick teenager and next thing he knows, there’s a fucking Adele song on that playlist. He isn’t even sure how it got there. He’s not even sure who he is anymore, if he’s someone who makes a fucking playlist about being in his  _ feelings.  _ He’s almost on the bad side of forty for Christ’s sake! What is happening to him?! Why does he suddenly sympathize with Adele????

* * *

_ If you're gonna let me down, let me down gently _

_ Don't pretend that you don't want me _

_ Our love ain't water under the bridge _

_ Say that our love ain't water under the bridge _

**_Water Under The Bridge (Adele)_ **

* * *

From then on, the playlist has a life of its own. Christmas comes and goes and he keeps adding and adding songs. Jeanine asks what has him so preoccupied. He evades her. The last time he slept with her was the night before Annie came over. 

He tries to get back to normal, he really does but he wakes up next to Jeanie in her apartment and everything seems wrong. He has tried this committed relationship thing and honestly, he’s good at it! He’s forty-five now after all— and he’s found that he’s okay with not chasing random girls at bars or fantasize about the women at College, be it redhead-crutches or those women who either look or act like Annie enough to catch his attention. 

He met Jeanine at the grocery store in late August and they hit it off immediately. She wasn’t Annie (because no one is Annie), but she’s nice and funny and smart and confident and he does have strong feelings for her. They’re in and out of each others apartments most days, they go to the Farmer’s Market, they even went to Ikea together the other day. 

On Christmas, he met her entire extended family in Texas and heard her mother talk to her aunt about engagements and children, because Jeanie isn’t getting any younger, and as Jeff hits repeat on the damn Adele song on the treadmill in the gym on December 31st, he feels like he’s being suffocated. 

Since coming home from Dallas, he has tried to get in touch with Annie the first time since June when he didn’t hear back from her about his pathetic excuse for an apology letter (and honestly, who could blame her?). All she did was text him back that her visit was just a courtesy one, that she was happy for him and wished him all the best. Fucking water under the bridge, all of it. Their whole weird six, seven years together. Thanks for the memories, good luck on your future endeavours. He can’t breathe.  _ Fucking stubborn, proud Annie Edison! _

* * *

_ Like ships in the night _

_ You keep passing me by _

_ Just wasting time _

_ Trying to prove who’s right _

_ And if it all goes crashing into the sea _

_ If it's just you and me _

_ Trying to find the light _

_ Like ships in the night _

**_Ships In The Night (Mat Kearney)_ **

* * *

Yes, technically this is all his fault. Because he had decided back then to step aside. Once more—but for good that time. When it became apparent that Annie was building her own life and group of friends in Portland. When the guys she hung out with turned up more and more frequent on her facebook page and Instagram. When he thought he saw the smile on her face that she’d usually reserve for him. Yes, he lost his mind a little. Yes, he got clingy and accusatory and ugly and terrified of losing her. Yes, they fought and fought and fought because he got prissy about literally everything and finally, he’d pulled the plug. 

He had decided to let her be and actually really live her life and not just pretend to and then wrap his dirty tentacles right back around her. He’s sure a part of her even saw it coming and welcomed him being fully out of her life. Because she had gone to Portland so easily, without sparing a thought for him. 

She had been so eager to leave Greendale behind, it was not hard to guess she was leaving him by extension. Sure, theoretically there is nothing tying him to the place either, other than his safe job and the security of a planned and scripted existence and away from it only the uncertainty of what else is out there as well as the fact that he’s in his forties and he's never really left the state for anything but Annie. So thinking of it that way, it’s really  _ not _ nothing at all. Maybe you could even argue that Jeff and Greendale are one and the same?! (Whatever, right, what does he know? The outside is scary for crying out loud and Greendale, for all its shortcomings, had always been home to him, had always accepted him, so sue him for being scared to leave!) 

Back then, when she’d revealed about leaving _ again, _ he had understood it to mean very clearly that she was leaving  _ him. _ Not leaving-leaving… but branching out alone with no real interest in dragging an ancient, semi-alcoholic, slightly-depressed crone from her past along with her. So he cleared the field when that had fully sunken in eventually.

Bottom line is, she should have been thanking him, is was what he thought. Cutting off contact cold turkey was the only way it was ever going to work. He was sure, she would see that along the line. That was of course until her letter arrived. And in a meticulously hand-penned two-page document, she had managed to eviscerate him hard enough to render him speechless for nearly a year. Of course Annie had seen right through him, even from half a country away. 

He’d never been able to hide from her and she fed off of being right about him and she  _ goddamn _ enjoyed it. He is sure, even now, a small part of her loves being able to tear him apart and tell all his dirty little secret emotions from just a look or even a text. He’d been so afraid of her abandoning him, he decided she was going to do it all by himself. 

But somehow it seemed true to form. After all, he had always made the mistake of underestimating her.

The first few years of knowing her, he’d spent thinking he should stay away. Because the age thing and the power imbalance and the advance in maturity of it all. She’d been the embodiment of his lesser instinct, his base, perverted villainy. She was a million different things, but somehow she scarcely felt like a real person to him—just human-shaped temptation, dipped in that good self-loathing sauce he’d always secretly been a sucker for. 

So he had fought the attraction and the chemistry and the pull of his heart, mind, body and soul to her tooth and nail. He had dulled the ache with Scotch and Britta and just being the jeffiest Jeff he could be. Nothing ever really worked.

* * *

_ I'll use you as a warning sign _

_ That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind _

_ And I'll use you as a focal point _

_ So I don't lose sight of what I want _

_ And I've moved further than I thought I could _

_ But I missed you more than I thought I would _

_ And I'll use you as a warning sign _

_ That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind _

_ And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be _

_ Right in front of me _

_ Talk some sense to me _

**_I Found (Amber Run)_ **

* * *

He had lost so much time talking himself into leaving Annie Edison be and boy, did it pull a number on his brain. He got so deep into the guilt and the repulsion for being drawn to her that he completely lost sight of who Annie really was, if he ever even had it. And that from day one, she had everything on him. Sure, she may have been naive a little, but she was never dumb. 

She had had some growing up to do but, God, so had he. She had been more mature than him in so many ways and while he still would do most of the things the same when it came to those first years, he thinks that by year four, five at least, he should have re-evaluated and looked at Annie for what she had become. A damn self-sufficient woman who was absolutely capable of making informed decisions about her life.

But instead, he had kept treating her like a child for years and punished himself for desiring her. Never having her had been his penance for wanting and he grandfatherly patronized her because he thought she didn’t know any better. And because he thought as soon as she came to her senses, she would laugh him out of her life. She had pegged him just right. Old, stupid, slacker asshole that he was (and is, let’s be honest). What does he have to offer her anyway? 

His mind is going in circles, his legs are still trampling into the treadmill. He’s fallen into a mild-jog and he hasn’t even properly noticed. The song changes. It’s a cheesy cover of an old country classic. He likes this version better because it’s even cheesier than the original. This is what Jeff Tobias Winger has become. He might as well be _ that guy _ now. The dude who’s crying at the gym.

* * *

_ A desert road or a downtown train _

_ It’s all the same, I can’t outrun you _

_ I could move to another town _

_ Where nobody asks where you are now _

_ LA or Mexico _

_ no matter where I go, I can’t outrun you _

_ You're in my heart _

_ You're in my mind _

_ Everywhere ahead _

_ Everywhere behind _

_ Every turn I take _

_ You're right around the bend _

_ It's like your ghost is chasing me _

_ When I'm awake _

_ When I'm asleep _

_ There's a part of you in every part of me _

_ And I can't outrun you _

_ I can't outrun you _

**_I Can’t Outrun You - Thompson Square_ **

* * *

As the music swells, he begins to understand that there is only one thing he can do, only one way forward that doesn't end in his complete self-destruction. One _ single _ way that doesn’t end with him joining fucking Duncan at his AA meetings for the rest of his life. He realizes that he’s been fooling himself, that he’s hurt them both so much and fucked everything up. 

He realizes like a hammer to his chest that she is the love of his damn, wasted life and that that’s not going to change no matter how far he pushes her away. No matter where he goes, no matter what might still happen to him—be it Jeanine or anyone else—Annie will never go anywhere. In his head, in his heart. Worse than that even, she’s in the sense memory of his entire body, of his hands. She will always be trapped in his mind like a ghost and he owes it to himself and her to at least try and make things right. He will regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn’t.

He mulls his decision over to another song. Trying to see the possibilities, trying to decide if it’s the right thing to do or if he’s just being selfish again. He tries to put himself into Annie’s shoes. For the first time, he actually tries to see things from her perspective, not just the perspective he has on her. And he remembers that she has given him so many chances along the line to see things her way.

* * *

_ You hold me without touch _

_ You keep me without chains _

_ I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love  _

_ And not feel your reign _

_ Set me free, leave me be _

_ I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity _

_ Here I am, and I stand _

_ So tall, just the way I'm supposed to be _

_ But you're on to me and all over me _

_ I live here on my knees as I try to make you see  _

_ That you're everything I think I need here on the ground _

_ But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go _

_ The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down _

**_Gravity - Sara Bareilles_ **

* * *

He has kept her small and on the ground as long as this thing has been going on between them. From the moment he fell in love with her and he knew she felt the same way, he had held on to her while never letting her in fully. He had kept her in his grip, close but always an arms length away. He had tried to love her from a safe distance. And in doing so, he never allowed her to soar and fly and own the fact that she had always been his equal. 

Under the guise of being noble, he had robbed her of her agency. But then of course he had always wanted to keep her somewhere around, wanted her eyes on him. Didn’t want her to be with anybody else because that killed him. She had been trying for years to show him that she was old enough, smart enough,  _ Annie _ enough to understand what she wanted and that what she wanted was him and he never listened. 

Even when he thought he had let her in, had given in to the attraction, had her call all the shots during their fling in ‘16… Even as he had asked her to be with him and put the decision entirely in her hands, he hadn’t really. Because when she went away and designed their relationship on her terms, he couldn’t handle it. Because he hadn’t trusted or believed in her ability to love him and love him enough to not leave him. He hadn’t thought it possible that she could leave him in Greendale and stay with him anyway. Hadn’t believed she was capable of coming back to him once she saw what else was out there for her.

The second things got hard, he never even bothered to ask her what her design for them was, or what she wanted to do with it, with him, for the rest of her life. Didn’t even entertain the possibility that she actually meant all the affection and care she was showing him, hadn’t even bothered to ask if maybe moving out to Portland to be with her was an option. Despite his own fear of leaving Greendale and having to start over somewhere, he could see himself doing it now—if she was by his side and wanted him there. But back then, that thought was so alien, he doesn’t even remember it ever occurring to him at all.

Back when it mattered, he just decided it was better for him to exit stage left out of her life. To shield his own heart while high-roading her by pretending it was all about what was best for Annie. But in the end it had nothing to do with her, he’d just been looking out for himself. She was exactly right in her letter! What a fucking asshole is he anyway?!

He kept her down because he thought it was the right thing to do but he understands like a bullet to his head that the choice should have been hers, or fifty percent hers, at _least._ And if he really cares about her (or his own happiness for that matter), he needs to fucking  _ go to her  _ and tell her how he feels. And give her the choice. 

So she knows he is still a real option. A damaged, selfish, shitty option, but an option nonetheless and not just one tied to Greendale or Denver, or even the state of Colorado. So she knows that if she wants him, she can have him body and soul. So that maybe he can find out if she would actually, really choose him after all, broken pieces and everything. Choose  _ him, _ untethered and unbound to any past events or locations just by the merit of his character. He  _ has _ to tell her. He has to take that real risk of rejection finally and put himself on the line. If anything at all was ever worth it, it’s Annie. So really, he has no choice at all.

* * *

_ And I've always lived like this _

_ Keeping a comfortable, distance _

_ And up until now _

_ I had sworn to myself that I'm _

_ Content with loneliness _

_ Because none of it was ever worth the risk _

_ Well, You are the only exception _

_ You are the only exception _

_ You are the only exception _

_ You are the only exception _

_ and I’m on my way to believing _

**_The Only Exception (Paramore)_ **

* * *

The last song on his playlist blares in his car all the way over to Jeanine’s. They were set to spend New Years Eve quiet and alone, having declined Britta’s invitation to celebrate with her at her Denver bar. But now Jeff is gathering up the nerve to tell Jeanine that he’s breaking up with her. (Because at Britta’s bar, Annie will be and Jeff would rather die than let anyone else kiss her at midnight without offering up his lips as tribute before. )

Jeanine takes it gracefully, though he can see the hurt on her face, he promises her they will talk in due time but he has to do something first.

“It’s this girl that was at the door before Christmas, isn’t it?” She asks. She’s sharp like Annie, that’s why he liked her so much. “You haven’t been the same since.”

He faintly nods and that's the last thing he remembers of the exchange. Next thing he knows, he’s stuck in traffic after getting changed at his place. Trying to get from Greendale to Denver should be quicker but there has been an accident so nearly an hour trickles by waiting and he gets restless. Midnight is drawing closer yet. Eventually, after another half hour of this, he decides to park his car in to some alley and take the rest of the way by foot. Courtesy of his great luck, of course it starts raining right then and there.

As he sprints past the cars stuck bumper to bumper, through the rain all the way to Britta’s bar, a cacophony of his playlist’s song runs through his head, urging him on. They mash together in his brain, rising and falling in time to his feet hitting the ground. It’s almost midnight. He has to run  _ faster. _

* * *

_ Thought there might just come a time _

_ I Wouldn't regret tellin' you goodbye _

_ If there was, I’ll never know _

_ No matter where I go _

_ I can’t outrun you _

**_I Can’t Outrun You - Thompson Square_ **

* * *

_ Something always brings me back to you _

_ it never takes too long _

**_Gravity Sara Bareilles_ **

* * *

_ I've got a tight grip on reality _

_ But I can't _

_ Let go of what's in front of me here _

**_The Only Exception (Paramore)_ **

* * *

_ I’m gonna find my way _

_ Back to your side _

**_Ships In The Night (Mat Kearney)_ **

* * *

Finally, a couple of minutes out from the New Year, he thrashes through the door, into a packed pub with thumping music. It’s lucky he’s so tall because he catches Britta’s eye immediately. She gives him a look that says pretty explicitly: “Good on you for getting your head out of your ass, Jeff Winger” and then nods in the direction of the dancefloor at the back where Annie is just coming down the winding staircase from the gallery. On target now, he nods at Britta, and starts out on working his way through the crowd. He pushes through shoulders and nearly shoves some guy out of the way and has to swerve a group of dancing middle-aged women but then finally, he ends up right across from Annie.

The moment she sees him, it’s like time stops, like he’s at the end of a long journey he had no idea he was even on. She breathes out deep and tilts her head. He takes a moment to study her face. She’s getting older, too. Not like him, not by a long shot, but her features have sharpened, her lips curve into a more confident smile, her cheeks are less chubby than they were when they met. Give her a few more years and they won’t look like he’s her creepy uncle. He smiles at that thought as she walks over to him.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, a funny, unplaceable look on her face. 

Jeff thinks the music got slightly quieter so they can talk and he turns around to see Britta fumble with the stereo.  _ Aces, Perry, Aces _ , he thinks.

“I have a speech to make,” he answers, turning back to Annie.

“Okay,” she says. “Don’t let me keep you from your audience.”

“No,” he shakes his head and takes her hands. “it’s you! The speech is for you. And it might be the most important one I’ll ever give… if you’ll hear me out?”

“I will, I guess,” she says, although she doesn’t give much pressure back from her hands to his. It’s probably the best he can hope for, all things considered, so he gets on with it.

“So I tried to figure out what I wanted to say on the way here but, I was running a lot… so if anything comes out weird and awkward, just fix it in your mind, alright?”

Annie chuckles slightly in a way that tells him she failed trying to fight it and that gives him enough courage to open his mouth and actually give the damn speech.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think since you showed up at mine the other day,” he says. “And the truth is, you are completely, hundred percent right about me. I’m a coward and an asshole and I ended things because I was scared. And I took that choice from you because I believed that you’d leave me anyway eventually. I thought I had to move on and be good without you, to get better. I really tried so hard to forget. I was playing house with someone I decided to seriously date to replace the Annie-shaped hole in my life and until I saw you again, I actually thought it was working. But she’s not you, Annie, and no one will ever be. So I broke up with her. I did that for me and for her because it isn’t fair to go into something like that half-heartedly.” 

“Something like what?” She asks.

“Settling down.”

“You were going to settle down with her?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Her mother sure seemed to think so.”

“I thought you didn’t really believe in settling down,” Annie questions sternly. “I thought you got scared because you had to give up your freedom and your complete control. And make the commitment, not just talk about it, but actually figure stuff out together. At eye-level. Running the risk that I wouldn’t act in exactly the way you were anticipating me to. Because I’m a dumb kid and the rest is all about you, right? What was it, that you said that one time? You'd always ‘rather look at yourself naked than the women you sleep with’? That about summed it up, didn’t it?”

“Annie,” he urges. “you’re right. But I’m trying so hard not to be that same guy anymore. You changed me, a lot longer and a lot more than I ever cared to admit. Down to the core, down to where it really, really hurts. And I want to be a better man because of you.  _ For _ you, if you’ll let me.”

Her face scrunches up like she’s maybe going to say something but he cuts her off. 

“Let me finish, I’m not done.  _ Please _ ,” he begs and she relents, signaling him to go on. He breathes a small sigh of relief and only then does his speech actually begin in earnest: 

“I would rather look at  _ you _ naked than at myself any fucking day, Annie. And I want to write a dumb song about you that has your name as the chorus and sing it barefoot. I want to clean riverbeds with you. I want to walk hand in hand at Disneyland with you. I want to make nice with your weird-ass brother and uptight mother on needlessly-themed and forced family gatherings, I want to watch you go crazy competitive about a political discussion or job promotion or a dumb board game and enable the shit out of you because I believe in you and I know that you’ll always get whatever you want, Annie. I want to cheer you on while you crush your dream career and show them all what’s what.”

He pauses for the briefest moments to  _ breathe. _ There is no music anymore, no more crowd, no more world. Only Annie’s face as she listens.

“I want to share a bed with you and your giant stuffed frog, I want to get married to you in a swanky, over-the-top wedding that will cost us half our year’s salaries,” Jeff goes on—and on. “I want to settle down and be your husband and have you decorate our place with tacky sheer fabric and keep my moral compass tuned North. I want to get a house and have a bunch of kids that make us angry and keep us from sleeping and love them to death because they’ll be just like you. I want to work hard and actually teach people stuff and I want to do better, not just pretend to. I want to cut back on the booze and the putting shit in my body because I want to be healthy long enough to experience all that life has to offer with you. 

“I want to be an actual grown-up person and build a life with you, side by side at eye-level. I want to grow old with you. I want to still be holding your hand in the dark running crazy capers when we’re old and wrinkly, or in my case even older and even fucking wrinklier. I want to non-platonically hold your shoulders and smile at you from across the room and feel unabashedly happy like a sentimental loser while a song montage of it plays in my head—because I love you, Annie Edison. I never stopped and I never will and I’ll follow you wherever you lead. If you’ll have me. If that’s what you want, because I think I’m long overdue for finding out what that actually is and I’m ready to listen now.”

It’s possible that he’s gotten more animated as he spoke. It’s also possible that Britta lowered the volume of the music so far that everyone in the bar was able to hear him, so it’s also very possible that quite a few people around them are waiting with baited breath to see what Annie will say to this romantic declaration. It’s possible that somewhere near the bar, the Dean of Greendale community College has started hyperventilating watching the scene unfold. The only thing that’s sure, is that none of them can even begin to imagine how anxious Jeff Winger is to find out what will happen next. And none of them will ever fathom how little he cares about literally anything else in the world in that very moment.

“You got a funny way of listening,” Annie mutters. “That was like a ten minute monologue.” 

Her face stays statue-esque but her eyes give it away. She heard him. She  _ sees _ him and it meant something to her. He can tell she’s fighting for composure, just like he is. And Jeff dares to hope.

“I know,” he says. “I can’t help myself, that’s my  _ thing, _ you know? I’ll listen now, I promise. Please tell me what you think, what you want?”

“You know what I want, you’ve always known,” Annie replies evenly, calm like a spring morning, “I want all of what you just said. But I can’t tell you how. I’m not coming back to Greendale. I’m taking a job with the agency in San Diego, Jeff, and I can’t pass that up.”

“That’s fine, I wouldn’t want you to. I’d never _ ask _ you to.” He doesn’t miss a beat, he’s never been as sure about anything. “I told you, I’ll follow you wherever. I’ll make my home where you are.”

A long moment passes. Annie considers him. Jeff thinks this is what burning alive must feel like.

“In that case... yes,” Annie says finally _(finally!!!),_ takes his hands in hers and a collective breath is released by the entire crowd. “Let’s build a life together, do everything you said.—Starting with the song about me.”

And now,  _ now _ Annie starts grinning like a big doofus and Jeff can’t help but join in. He thinks he might actually start singing any moment, he’s  _ that  _ happy. He can’t believe this worked and he doesn’t want to spend another second wondering about any darker timelines where she might have decided differently. All that counts is that here and now, he’s got a future. With Annie Edison. And she chose him.  _ Him! _

“You should be proud of how much I’ve changed you,” Annie jokes then, calling back to a horror story she once made up about a vampire learning to read from a maiden werewolf in disguise. It feels like coming home.

“I knew you cast me as your romantic hero in that story,” he notes.

“I cast you as my romantic hero in all of my stories,” Annie replies and then he’s kissing her.

It’s possible people clap but Jeff wouldn’t know. He barely even registers that Britta puts a cheesy song on until it’s halfway through and they’re already sort of dancing to it. It’s not the ‘Annie’-song but it’s close enough. It’s by Josh fucking Groban, he realises. He doesn’t even mind, though. Because it’s fitting. And really, Josh Groban isn’t half bad anyway. He’s got Jeff’s current mood down to the T at least, so that’s something. To be honest, that song is probably going on the playlist tonight...

* * *

_ I look up to _

_ Everything you are _

_ In my eyes you do no wrong _

_ I've loved you for so long _

_ And after all is said and done _

_ You're still you _

_ After all _

_ Time changes everything _

_ One truth always stays the same _

_ You're still you _

_ After all _

_ You're still you _

_ I look up to _

_ Everything you are _

_ In my eyes you do no wrong _

_ And I believe in you _

_ Although you never asked me to _

_ And in this cruel and lonely world _

_ I found one love _

_ You're still you _

_ After all _

_ You're still you _

**_You’re Still You (Josh Groban)_ **

* * *

  
  



	4. 2018, Spring - 2025, Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks, the cutesy epilogue :) this is pure fluff and there is only happiness *-*
> 
> I hope you guys like it, thank you for all your comments and feedback <3

**2018, Spring**

****

****

(Jeff sees the typo the moment the 150 postcards arrive at their home from the printer while Annie is out of state for work. He doesn’t sleep for an entire night, getting them all ready for the mail, amending every single one with a handwritten line making people promise not to tell her about it. 

When she returns, just a day later than the package, they’re all out already. Jeff gets a gold star from his type-A fiancee and Annie doesn’t find out about the typo almost until the wedding. And by then, there are too many other fires to extinguish that it hardly matters anymore.

Their outdoor wedding is interrupted by a minor earthquake, only piling on to everything that had gotten wrong before—but none of it matters. Not Chang going nuts at the reception, not Abed and Troy reenacting a mash-up of all  _ Wedding Movies Ever _ , not Annie’s brother’s weird speech, standing in for their ever absent Dad. The wedding is perfect. Because it’s  _ theirs. _ )

**2020, Summer**

_ Jeff and Annie’s Podcast for Family and Friends • Episode Four • Transcript (by Annie Edison-Winger) _

“(Jeff clears throat) 

J: Okay folks, welcome to another edition of the Jeff and Annie Corona Podcast for friends and family who don’t want to talk to us over the phone. Hey Abed, we hope you’re still fine, keep working on that movie script!

A: Jeff doesn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, we really do hope you’re fine and making great progress on the script.

J: I didn’t sound sarcastic at all.

A: Yes you did.

J: No I didn’t. Anyway. This one today is going to be a bit shorter because much like for most of you probably, we’re in the sixth week of social distancing and are both still working from home - so in my case, not working - and the sad truth is just that we don’t have that many new things to share.

A: So I would like to get the segments out of the way first because I do have some news that I would like to share at the end of this.

J: What news?

A: You’ll hear them soon enough.

J: Okay.

(Pause)

A: So?

J: What?

A: Run the jingle for the first segment!

J: (grumbles something about  me Annie forcing him to do the stupid podcast >> maybe cut out for complete audio collection?? Probably leave it in for the download, study group will like)

(Mail Roundup-Jingle)

A: So for our Incoming Mail roundup of what was sent to us by snail mail this week a sweet postcard from Britta with her bars branding, so I’m guessing she either put a sticker on it or has had them made special. Oh no, I’m just checking, it’s definitely a sticker. My mother sent us another set of hand sewn masks and matching oven mitts. They are beautiful! Right, Jeff?

(Pause)

A: Jeff?

J: Yes. Thanks Moira.

A: Also I got a wonderful reply to the letter I sent to Frankie last week, she included some pretty pressed flowers that I shared on my Instagram account. I'd like to say that am still waiting on a reply letter from Troy which has not yet arrived but I’m sure it’s already on its way. And that concludes our Weekly Mail Roundup.

J: In case anyone can’t tell yet, we are losing our minds a little over here.

A: Please roll the next segment jingle, Jeff.

(Relationship Quarantine Hygiene-Jingle)

J: Do you ever think we might have too many jingles and segments and not enough to actually say?

A: Shut up, Jeff.

J: (sighs) I love you.

A: I love you, too. So, part one of the relationship quarantine hygiene for this week is done. Now onto part two. Any misgivings about me this week? Any praise?

J: I was annoyed about having to sit through that crocheting teleshopping thing but otherwise I’m peachy. You?

A: If you leave the toilet seat up one more time, I will  _ literally _ strangle you. But I appreciate you sitting through teleshopping with me and the sex was great last week.

J: Sorry, Moira. (to  me Annie) You know Chang can listen to this, right?

A: Well, I don’t care who knows, I’m very satisfied. Sorry Mom. Gross, Ben. — Sooooo, moving on to the last bit of the relationship quarantine hygiene. Tell each other one thing you didn’t know about one another yet. I’ll start. Sometimes when you’re not looking, I put sugar in your coffee. Because you deserve something sweet every now and then and you don’t eat enough carbs.

J: Annie! 

A: I’m sorry?

J: Ugh, I guess it’s okay. That’s why your coffee always tastes better than mine, isn’t it?

A: Yup, you know it. Your turn.

J: Oh well, I’m really running out of secrets here. Wait, okay. I got one. You remember back in Greendale, when we were trapped in that underground lab? For anyone listening, there was this computer scientist who founded Greendale Community College where we met and he’d invented a computer that was able to read human emotions and he basically bunkered himself underneath the college for forty-odd years to work on that machine and when Subway was going to buy the college, we went down there because we thought there was hidden treasure that we could use to keep Subway from buying Greendale, only then the Subway guys found us—thanks Chang—and took the fourteen million dollars the scientist gave us because he liked us and then they locked us all in and the computer died and it controlled the door so the only way to get out was to restart the machine with an intense burst of human passion. Okay, I guess I never said this out loud before, it sounds really crazy. But I swear that’s pretty much exactly how it happened. Either way, the scientist said even him rubbing his nipples didn’t produce enough passion to wake up the computer, so I said I would try. We were six people down there. Our dean Craig, then Britta, Abed, you, the scientist, and me. And I had you all turn around so I could feel things. And I looked at everybody one by one and nothing happened. But when it got you you…

A: The computer came back on?

J: The computer came back on. That’s when I knew for sure. I’d loved you all that time. And, not like I didn’t care for the others but it was you that got us out of there eventually. And how much I loved you, even then.

A: Aaaaaawwwwwwwww. Why did you never tell me that before?

J: I was saving it for the time we had a global pandemic.

(I sniffled a little there.)

A: Okay, roll the next jingle before I start to cry.

(Things Jeff cooked-Jingle)

A: As you all know in our segment “Things Jeff Cooked” Jeff tells us in detail about his latest exploits in the kitchen, so take it away Jeff!

J: (talks a LOT about dinner, REMINDER TO TRANSCRIBE THIS BIT TOO!)

A: Thank you Jeff, that was fascinating! And very tasty. I am the luckiest gal getting your wonderful cooking on the daily. That’s the one good thing about this whole self-isolation-thing.

J: Except the lentil stew on Tuesday, that didn’t sit right with you, if I remember correctly.

A: Excellent segue into our news segment!

J: I don’t think you not making it quite to the bathroom to throw up half-digested lentils is worthy of its own news.

A: No but the reason for it is.

(Pause)

J: What do you mean?

A: Well, it was your fault in a sense. But it’s not what you put on the stove, Jeff. It’s what you put in the oven.

J: Annie? Are you serious?

(Pause… I nodded at him here, he got really emotional)

A: I’m really serious. I’m pregnant!

J: Oh my god. Oh my god, Annie! How long… ?

A: I’ve known a couple of days. I’m about five weeks along. So I guess, it’s an early quarantine baby. (Laughing)

J: Oh my god. (He hugged me very very tight and cried a little) I’m so happy. I’m so happy, Annie. I can’t believe it. We’re gonna have a baby, I’m gonna be a Dad. Oh my god.

A: Me too. (We hugged and kissed, need to cut a lot of that OUT!!!) And that’s the newest news! You heard it here first on the Jeff and Annie Corona Quarantine Podcast. We’re happy to take your call whenever you heard this. That’s it for today, thanks for listening to our podcast!!”

**2023, Winter**

Jeff turns forty-nine on a cold November day. It’s the same day that the twins, Georgie and David, discover their ability to stumble into running and then spends the rest of the day doing just that: running circles around him and their mother. Annie has taken the day off of work to be with him and the kids for his big day. He’s home anyway, taking a sabbatical year from his job teaching at a High School (incidentally the High School with the current reigning National Debate Champions, the team he has been coaching since taking the job). Coaching debate is the only thing he still does during his sabbatical, the rest he spends raising his kids.

It’s great. He likes parenting a LOT more than he ever expected to do. The twins keep him on his toes, they keep him young. Sure, periodically, he wants to kill them because they’re in their terrible twos and are both  _ equally _ terrible. Sometimes at the same time, sometimes taking turns when the other is not. Only they’re never both not-terrible at the same time. He loves them anyway. He loves them because David looks and acts exactly like Annie (as much as a two-year old can) and looking at Georgie is like watching himself through a time portal, except she’s got more hair than he ever had, which is slightly unfair. But all in all, he supposes he’s doing a good job being a Dad. The kids are alright and they seem to like him, too, so that’s good.

Annie is an amazing Mom, which no one was ever surprised about. Least of all him. He is so proud of her every day, especially seeing as the twins being twins came as a complete surprise and both giving birth to them and getting them to where they’re now was a feat. He did help of course but being married to someone like Annie always kind of makes one feel like they’re not pulling their weight. Maybe he’ll get over that one day… but probably not.

He watches her read from the edge of the couch, she just sat down after bribing the twins into a nap (sleep for chocolate). Her feet rest on his knees and he tenderly starts massaging them a little. She looks up from her novel and smiles at him, then at his cup on the table when it catches her attention.

“Aww, you’re using it!” She exclaims happily. “I’m so glad I brought it down from the attic, it was still up there with all the Greendale stuff.”

“Yeah. I can’t say I totally missed it but it seemed apropos today,” he says and picks the cup up, showing it off. It’s a baby blue cup that says “It’s a boy”, only someone sharpied the word “old” before boy. The “study” group had given it to him for his fortieth birthday back in the days.

“So how does it feel?” Annie asks. “Nine years later, in your last year of the eighteen to forty-nine ‘Valuable-for-society’-tier? Any G.I. Joe cartoon flashbacks so far?”

“No,” Jeff says, smiling. “I’m weirdly okay with this. I think I’m pretty good at this aging thing now that I got you and the kids.”

“I think so too,” she agrees. “You’re like scotch, Jeff Edison-Winger, better over time.”

“All thanks to you,” he says. “Never would’ve grown-up without you.”

“At least never this well,” she agrees and smirks. 

God, he loves that woman.

**2025, Summer**

  



End file.
